


Ruffled Feathers

by Kayzo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Feelings, Jealous Gabriel, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 01:45:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayzo/pseuds/Kayzo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel's always know he's a bit of a jealous bastard. But he's never been jealous to this extent for a human before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Proactive Guardian Angel

**Author's Note:**

> This is set anytime after the boys find out Gabe is, well, Gabriel and before his untimely demise (rumor has it he might be still alive?)  
> My first Sam/Gabe fic, I hope you enjoy.

The music is loud, flowing from ever corner of the bar to coat the room in sound. The people are louder; laughing, talking, shouting over the din. But all of that is in the background, hushed and forgettable in the wake of the presence of that one human.

Gabriel doesn’t know when it happened. When he changed from a trickster with loyalties to no one to someone who just wanted Sam. The guy was a giant, couldn’t take a joke, and was _responsible_ of all things. If this was Father’s idea of a joke, it certainly did have a tinge of that ironic humor the big man was always so fond of.

But here he is—Gabriel: Archangel and trickster extraodinar—in some rundown small-town bar filled with rednecks and truckers, eyeing Sam up like he can’t wait to get him into bed. Granted, he can’t, but seriously, this is _Gabriel_ we’re talking about, he should be the one driving Sam in circles, not the other way around. And the worst part is, Sam isn’t even _doing_ anything.

The impression of Sam’s thoughts pulse out towards him. He’s happy here, in this place that’s too loud and too full and too dirty to actually be likable. Sam is with his brother, alive and well enough, and isn’t that sad, that that’s all it takes for the two of them to be grateful nowadays?

Gabriel wants to look away, to go out and find some bastard to kill for being such a dick, but Sam is laughing at something Dean’s said and his head is thrown back, exposing his long neck. Gabriel can’t very well be expected to look away from _that_ now can he? What he wouldn’t give to trail his tongue over that expanse of skin. Find his pulse point and bite just hard enough to earn a growl, lick at his Adam’s apple and feeling it bob as Sam gulps in air, taste the salt on his skin as he sucks and licks, marking Sam so everyone will know he’s taken.

And then Sam’s facing Dean, his back to Gabriel, forcing the archangel out of his thoughts as the point of fascination is obscured. Sam’s back isn’t a horrible view either though; strong corded muscle that fails to be hidden under his jacket and hair that he’s brushing back absently with one of those bear paws of his. Gabriel would love to go up to Sam right now, thread his fingers through that soft hair and yank his head back so he could kiss Sam without bothering to waste the time it would take him to turn around.

Gabriel would love to do a lot of things to Sam. Sex is high up there on the list, but, scarily enough, so is just holding the damn guy’s hand. Gabriel wants to make Sam happy. Gabriel wants to stop Sam from saying yes, even though he knows it’s destiny as much as any of his other brothers. And Gabriel should really leave before he does anything stupid.

He’s sure Sam knows he’s been getting a little angelic help with a trickster flare for a while; Sam has this horrible habit of being smart (and a discarded candy wrapper can’t _just_ be a discarded candy wrapper with this guy). And he’s not always the most subtle of guys (spontaneous healing of a knife wound to the abdomen isn’t really feasible without some sort of divine intervention), but Gabriel doesn’t really mind. He likes to think that Sam likes knowing he’s there, watching out for him. Protecting him.

Gabriel tears his eyes away from the hunter. He should leave. He doesn’t even have an excuse to be here, it’s not like there’s anything dangerous in this bar.

But then he sees it. _Her_ would be more appropriate, she is a female human after all, but Gabriel isn’t feeling all that nice right now. The brunette has shiny hair (too shiny. What did she do, roll around in pig grease?) that frames her face that’s pretty in an abstract sort of way (if you’re into that kind of thing). Her body is shapely, not like the stick figures in today’s magazines, but a nice hourglass figure that she inhabits with confidence (although her clothes make her look slutty and entirely undesirable, in Gabriel’s objective opinion).

Distantly, a part of his brain realizes that she is quite attractive, and it’s not her looks that have him hating the very soul she houses (and it’s a quite bright and lovely soul, but for argument’s sake, it’s on par with Hitler’s), it’s her eyes. Eyes that shimmer with life and light. Eyes the color of dark chocolate with hazelnut and coco powder sprinkled throughout.

Eyes that are currently tracking Sam’s every move.

A growl is torn from his throat as her eyes travel the path his just were, over the contours of Sam’s body, but she is too far from him to hear—to human to truly react—and so she gets up from her seat and slithers across the floor to Sam’s side. Sam, the bighearted lug, turns to her when she taps his shoulder with as smile, open and bright. Dean says something or other that prompts Sam to give him a shove with his shoulder, but Dean just laughs and walks away. And Sam is still smiling. At that _girl_.

She’s saying something to him, leaning against the bar—leaning towards _his_ Sam—with one finger twirling that too shiny hair, and he chuckles along with some crappy joke she’s told. Sam reaches towards his beer and that girl has the gale to intercept his hand, trailing her fingers along the edge of Sam’s hand and that’s it. Gabriel is done with the whole angel-watching-over-you crap. He’s going to be a proactive angel. First order of angelic business: get that _bitch_ away from _his_ Sam.

Gabriel’s up across the bar in a matter of moments, bodies shifting out of his way unconsciously as the humans register on some baser level that he is something not to be trifled with. Apparently the girl isn’t as in-tune with her animal instincts because she just turns towards him and smiles absently when Gabriel stops in front of them. Sam has no such qualms, he immediately straightens—removing his hand from her grasp in the process, Gabriel notices smugly—his face a mix of shock and confusion at the archangel’s presence.

“Gabriel!” his voice reflects his eyes, and the girl looks at Sam for a moment before turning those eyes back towards him.

“Oh, do you know him?” she smiles at Gabriel and he feels the need to fight her for what is already his, “my name’s Emma.” She holds out her hand. Gabriel wants to hurt her, his rage at her casual attitude grating his grace. Sam is not hers. Sam was never, nor will he ever be hers. He looks at her, glances at her outstretched hand, before looking again to her face.

“ _Sam_ ” Gabriel growls out, leaving the girl confused and awkward. His gaze swivels to Sam’s, and Sam looks nervous, but Gabriel can tell he’s not nervous for what he’s about to do, no, Sam is worried over how much he’ll like it. Gabriel doesn’t really stop to consider the consequences, all he knows is he has to make Sam stop looking at that girl, he has to make Sam look only at _him_.

Gabriel moves so he’s in between Sam and the girl, looking up into Sam’s eyes, ignoring the huff of indignation he hears behind him. He slips a hand into that silky hair, grips it tight and smirks at Sam’s wide eyes before pulling him down for a kiss that is anything but chaste. His other hand goes to join the first, pulling Sam closer. Those lips are smooth and warm against his own, and his tongue talented as Gabriel deepens the kiss. It’s hot and messy and dirty and when Sam’s arms slip around Gabriel’s waist its _heaven_.

“Gab--” Sam starts, wrenching his mouth away from Gabriel’s to speak, but he doesn’t pull away from Gabriel’s hold and he counts it as a victory.

“Sam, Sam, Sam” Gabriel breathes against Sam’s lips, pulling his lower lip into his mouth and nipping at it. Sam lets out a sound that makes Gabriel shiver—not only is it sexy as hell, but _he_ was the one to make Sam like this, and just with a kiss. Gabriel casts a glance over his shoulder and sees Emma looking at them awkwardly. Gabriel can’t stop a smirk as he drags Sam into another kiss. Sam is _his_ , and now Emma and everyone else around _knows_ it.

Gabriel pulls back and looks at Sam. Sam’s eyes are bright, his lips are kissed red and shiny and pulled into a smile.

“Hi” he says, shy and endearing.

Gabriel has to smile too, “Hey kiddo.” He licks his lips and watches Sam track the movement, “Let’s get outta here.”

“Yeah” and Gabriel is tugging Sam through the bar out the door and then snapping his finger, popping them into Sam and Dean’s hotel room. Sam looks around and gives a laugh.

“How long have you been following us?” Gabriel doesn’t answer just tugs Sam down for another kiss, but he can still feel Sam smile into it. Gabriel toys with the idea of snapping their clothes away, but he doesn’t want to scare Sam off, now that he has him, so he tugs at Sam’s jacket until the hunter gets the gist and lets Gabriel pull to off him. Sam’s hands slide under the hem of Gabriel’s shirt and Gabriel’s raising his arms to let Sam pull it over his head.

Gabriel yanks on Sam’s shirt demandingly, pulling back and throwing the shirt to the side so he can see Sam. The hunter blushes as he watches Gabriel eye him hungrily.

“Oh _Sam_ ,” Gabriel runs his eyes over the newly reveled skin, following lines of muscle with his eyes and hands, feeling it quiver under his hands, “ _fuck_ , your gorgeous.” Sam’s blush spreads and Gabriel can’t help but feel endeared.

Sam clears his throat, looking embarrassed but determined and Gabriel raised an eyebrow, challenging him. Gabriel’s directed to sit on the bed by a large warm hand on his shoulder, and he complies, smiling all the while. And then Sam is sinking down to his knees and glancing shyly up at Gabriel through long lashes and now _Gabriel’s_ the one feeling short of breath

“I know you’ve been tailing us” Sam says matter-of-factly, rubbing circles into Gabriel’s denim clad thigh.

Gabriel snorts “I haven’t really been subtle, Sammy-boy,” he spreads his legs and threads a hand into Sam’s hair.

Sam continues on as if Gabriel hadn’t spoken, “but I want to know is; why?” He slowly undoes Gabriel’s zipper.

Gabriel’s breathe hitches, “Maybe I just wanted you here. Like this”

“I don’t think that’s all…” Sam counters, yanking Gabriel’s jeans to his knees and leaning his head over the obvious tent in the archangel’s boxers.

“Does it really matter?”

Sam looks up, his expression clear and open, lips full and slightly parted, “It does to me” and then he’s mouthing at Gabriel’s cock through his boxers and Gabriel lets out an unholy sound of _want_.

“ _Fuck_ ” Gabriel’s hand tightens in Sam’s hair and he doesn’t know if it’s to push him back or pull him forward. Those full, kiss swollen lips are outlining his dick, so close to skin that the tease is obvious.

 _“Fuck_ ” Gabriel says again, his head tilted back and eyes closed, knowing that the sight of Sam lapping at the cloth around his cock as if trying to get a taste of the salty skin and pre-come underneath is the one thing that will give him pleasure would make this end way too soon.

There are fingers playing with the band of Gabriel’s boxers, teasing the sensitive flesh, making Gabriel whimper in a totally undignified way, but that seems to give Sam some confidence to finally pull them off, and if that’s what’s needed to keep this show on the road, Gabriel’s willing to plead and beg for it, as long as those lips stay on his cock.

Sam takes Gabriel in his mouth— _finally_ —and the angel arches into the wet heat. And then he’s moving. Slow and exploratory, as if this is some fucking experiment and not a blow job, but damn if the careful working over of his dick doesn’t make him harder. The flat of Sam’s tongue against the underside of Gabriel earns a groan, swirling his tongue around the head gets a jerk up, and the slightest brush of teeth against his shaft has Gabriel crying out.

“Shit, Sammy, I’ve wanted you _so bad_.” Gabriel’s mumbling, hands gripping and relaxing in Sam’s hair repetitively, and he knows he’s just saying whatever’s on his mind, but Sam’s hand joins the party, gripping where Sam’s mouth can’t reach and Gabriel doesn’t care what he’s saying because Sam seems to like it, “wanted—ngh—to have you when I first saw you. Wanted to take you away from Dean, from the angels, the demons, from luci— _ahh_ —fer and tell him to go screw himself. ‘Ve wanted your lips on me so- _oh_ bad.”

Sam gives a hard suck and Gabriel jerks into it like a virgin, nothing like the pagan god whose had more than his fair share of virgins himself. But with Sam, everything feels like its new. Gabriel lets out a broke ‘ _Sam’_ falling back onto the bed, the only thing stopping him from fucking that pretty mouth is Sam’s arm slung across his hips. And then that arm is gone. Sam gives a tight squeeze to his upper thigh before pulling back so just the head of Gabriel’s dick is in his mouth and stops.

Garbriel understands after half a second and then he’s cursing so much he’s surprised God hasn’t struck him down, even if he’s on some leave of absence, because the things coming from Gabriel’s mouth as he fuck’s Sam’s rosy red lips are filthy. Gabriel’s hips surge forward in a fast pace and Sam just _takes_ it.

“—want you to fuck me open, Sam—” Gabriel vaguely wonders if he’d ever stopped talking, “—want to feel you come inside me as I shout your name. Want to ride you hard, hold you down and make you _take it._ I’d get on my knees for you; suck you off, leave hickeys all over you so everyone knows your mine. I’d get you so hard for me you’d beg--” Sam lets out a whimper of his own and Gabriel feels oddly triumphant, even though he’s _so close_ to coming right this _instant_.

“You like that? Wanna beg for me? Make me give you all kinds of pleasure? Make you come on my fingers, come in my ass, arching and curseing. You’d beg for it, Sammy? Be my good little whore— _shit, fuck,_ Sam _, yes_ ” One of Sam’s finger’s trails over his hole lightly, teasingly circling it and Gabriel almost bites his own tongue off.

Sam lets out a moan and it vibrates through his cock. Gabriel’s so close to coming its un-fucking-believable; he can’t remember the last time he’s wanted it so bad that he’s about to come _this_ hard. Gabriel sits up and opens his eyes, to warn Sam, maybe, but the sight he sees halts any words.

Sam’s lips are stretched around his cock, which slides in and out of that pretty little mouth of his slick and hard as hell. One hand, Gabriel can’t see, but he knows that it’s pushing into his entrance just enough to make him go completely crazy. But the other hand is what makes Gabriel ( _Gabriel_ of all people) speechless. He’s obviously unzipped his pants, because both that and his underwear are shoved to mid-thigh, and he’s jerking himself off. He’s getting off on sucking Gabriel, on hearing what Gabriel wants him to do, on thinking of what else he wants to do. The image of Sam getting face fucked while jacking off is just too much, Sam moans one last time and Gabriel is coming so hard he’s afraid he’ll faint (which is _so_ not how he rolls). But he knows he doesn’t because now, flat on the bed and breathing hard, he can still hear Sam letting out little noises with each swift pass of his hand as he noses Gabriel’s crotch.

Sam comes like that, kneeling at Gabriel’s feet with his pretty, pretty mouth brushing the base of Gabriel’s dick. There’s just their breathing for a minute or an hour (Gabriel’s not really certain) and it’s nice. So of course he has to say something stupid.

“…well that was fun.” Gabriel can practically _see_ Sam’s eyes roll, but he does not anticipate the hard bite to his inner thigh. Gabriel jumps slightly, and has to remind himself that it’s way, _way_ too soon for round two. Even for an angel. (Maybe especially for an angel)

“Shut up.” Sam pulls the comforter off the other bed and lies on it on the ground in the space between the two singles, unable to muster the energy to get up and actually get into a bed. There’s a beat, and then Sam’s yanking him down by his leg, and Gabriel falls unceremoniously on top of him. Sam shifts, arranges Gabriel in his arms before letting out a blissful sigh of contentment, drifting to sleep now that Gabriel’s safely at his side. Gabriel blinks once, unused to being manhandled in such a _loving_ manner, but he just smiles and accepts it as one of Sam’s quirks before leaning in to steal a quick, chaste kiss.

Sam smiles in drowsily in response and Gabriel can’t hide his sappy little smile back. He shifts closer to the giant and drifts into the closest thing he has to sleep, entirely content with the knowledge that Sam is his and that he is _Sam’s_.

It sucks that Dean has to rudely awaken them with a girly shriek and demands for ‘brain bleach’. Like he isn’t already fucking Castiel. Hypocrite.  


	2. Payback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damn it, Dean did not want to see that. Ever. So what does he do? Goes to complain to Cas, of course.

When Dean had gone to wake Sam, he’d been kinda happy about the whole role reversal thing. Usually it’s Sam shaking or hitting Dean awake, but now it’s Dean’s turn for some pay back. And epic teasing. He’d seen the way that girl was looking at Sam, and with a figure like that and a rack like _that_ , well, if Sam hadn’t brought her back to the room for a little one on one, Dean was disowning him, simple as that. He was even nice enough to go and get another room last night, so there better have been some action going on, or he’d wasted good money for nothing.

Dean had slid the key home and opened the door with a knowing smirk already plastered on his face, but when he’d seen the state of the room, sheets strewn about as though a tornado had hit and no quick visual of Sam, well, Dean’d drawn his gun before his eyes had even finished telling him what he was seeing.

He’d slowly made his way around the room, inching towards the bathroom before turning into it, his gun leading the way. No one was there. Dean hadn’t been sure if that was a good thing or not. Then he’d heard something; a sheet shift and an exhalation of breath. Slowly and silently, Dean had rounded the bed, gun still drawn, ready to demand answers as to where his brother was and back up his threats with a few bullet holes.

Dean blames the, _ahem_ , yell on the ridiculousness of the scene before him.  Sam has been sleeping like the dead, fine, awesome, Dean could take that. Hell, he could even take the fact that Sam was naked—he’d bathed that baby butt when they’d been little and staying in such close corridors means you’re gonna see your baby brother’s junk more than once—it was the other naked guy wrapped around his brother like an octopus that really prompted the yell. Gabriel, archangel and trickster, showing his bare ass to the world as he— _oh my god._ Is that _jizz?_

So Dean’d made a hasty as all hell retreat, running to the room he’d gotten last night as if hell hounds were on his tail. And that’s how Cas’d  woken up, to Dean running back in the room, slamming the door shut with more force than necessary and looking as though he’d just seen Lucifer in a tutu.

“Wha—Dean?” Cas questions, sleep still tingeing his tone, and any other morning Dean would melt just a bit from hearing it. This thing was still new enough that Dean reveled in every small thing Cas did and struck with the notion that _this is his_. That _Cas_ is his. But this morning is different, this morning he’d seen something that no older brother should ever have to bare (ohgodwrongword) witness to.

“Sam and Gabriel are doing it.”

Cas blinks. “Oh.”

“Oh? _Oh?_ ” Dean throws his hands in the air, “that’s all you have to say? They’re having sex and you say ‘ _oh’?_ ”

“What would you prefer, Dean?”  Cas sits up slowly, making the sheets fall to reveal his chest and Dean fights to keep his train of thought.

“I don’t know, something better than ‘ _oh_ ’” He crosses his arms moodily, put out that this isn’t as big a thing to Cas as it is to him.

“It’s been obvious that someone has been looking out for your brother, Dean.” He looks at Dean pointedly, “I am glad it is Gabriel instead of someone with much worse intentions.”

“ _Worse_ intentions?” Dean walks over to the bed, “Cas, he’s defiling my baby brother! For all I know he mind-whammed Sammy into doing it!”

“Dean!” Dean feels his righteous anger flee from him at that time of voice, that tone that reminds Dean that he’s dealing with an angel here.

“Gabriel is my brother, _Dean_ , and I will not have you speak of him in such a way.”  Cas’s eyes are hard as they catch Dean’s, letting the hunter feel his full anger before he continues on, “and Gabriel is a good man. He would never do something like that to someone he loves.”

“What?!” Dean snaps out of it and feels his protectiveness for his brother grow, “He doesn’t _love_ Sam! He’s only--!”

 Castiel cuts in. “Do not finish that sentence, Dean Winchester.” When Dean’s mouth closes with an audible click Cas lets his shoulders drop and sighs in exasperation.

“Gabriel is capable of love,” he gives Dean a pointed look, “and it is not that Gabriel is currently in a male form,” he gestures vaguely between the two of them, “so, what is it really?”

Dean runs a hand over his face, trying to collect his thoughts as best he can. He plops on the bed, making Cas bounce a little and Cas shifts to the side so Dean can lean against the headboard next to him.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s just, I never wanted to learn that about my brother,” Dean starts to gain conviction, “yeah! Like, do you want to know about Anna having sex? It’s just not right!”

“She had sex with you.”

“…okay, um, bad example. Uriel?”

“Dean…” Cas drags his name out like he’s trying to say five things in that one word and Dean feels stupid because he’s not getting any of it and isn’t that what people like them are supposed to be able to do? Just know what the other means without him having to say it?

“You constantly push Sam to ‘get laid’” Cas makes a face at the phrase and Dean feels his lip pull up involuntarily, “why is this different?”

Dean looks away because it’s starting to come to him, in more than just wordless thought and feeling, and he’s not sure if he wants to face what it is himself, let alone with another person, but then Cas is catching Dean’s hand in his, cradling it in his lap, and it’s like some wordless cue to Dean’s brain, because his mouth starts spouting off shit without his consent.

“It’s just, Gabe isn’t some random girl, you know? Some chick that neither of us will remember two truck stops from now—well, Sam might, he’s always been a girl like that. But Gabe is—fuck, you’re right. He _loves_ Sam. And I think deep down I’ve know that Sam’s had something for him ever since he started getting candy bars at gas stations because seriously, he bitches about his _calorie_ intake all the fucking time and then he goes and buys a snickers?” Dean shakes his head in disbelief and his hand tightens around Cas’s.

“But the thing is, Gabe can take Sam anywhere. The little nerd would love to go visit ancient Rome and all that shit. And Gabe’d do it for him and they’d be happy. And I’m not saying I don’t want ‘em to be happy, hell no!

“But one day they might go off to Madrid or Shanghai or something and forget to, you know. Come back.” Dean’s eyes drift to his own lap. Damn he’s such a pansy. Who cares if they go off or some shit? They deserve to! Have some happiness before the whole planet goes to hell. Sam deserves a life outside of his brother, a life that Dean had already torn him from once.

“Dean…”Cas breaks him from his thoughts and that soft and understanding voice almost breaks him completely, “Sam will not leave you. Not again.”

And that’s the crux of the matter, isn’t it? Dean’s just scared of being alone again like some fucked up teddy bear that kids outgrow at five and then only come back to every once in a while for nostalgic reasons, remembering all the reasons the bear was cool until it wasn’t any more.

“But why not? He’s already done it twice. College. Ruby.”

Cas shifted moving to rest more against Dean than the headboard, wrapping Dean’s hand securely in both of his own, “you know why Sam left for college, Dean, and it wasn’t because of you.” And Dean does know. He knows that Sam wanted to break away from the hunting life, better himself. Become a lawyer and help the world in a totally different way. He knows all this. But it still hurt that Sam hadn’t told him. That Dean had found out from the yells he could hear through the wall as he and Dad fought.

“And Ruby was his best way to cope. You were dead.” Cas squeezes his hand as though the very though pains him, thinking of Dean’s years in hell, of all the suffering he endured before Cas had found him.

“She had gained his trust.” He continues after a moment, as if reliving those forty years of fighting in the instant of silence, “She had done what she set out to do, trick and connive. She had been there for Sam through the suffering of your loss, and that is a bond that ties people together quickly, when their hearts are laid bare and hurting.

“Dean, Sam does not leave _you_. He has never left _you_. He loves you, and it still tears at him that he hurt you in that way, that he believed her.  That he hurt you when he left for Stanford. He will not leave you, Dean. And Gabriel would never desire to take him away. Gabriel knows, just as I do, that if we had one without the other, we would never fully have the one we had.”

The silence stretches and Cas does not seem inclined to break it, merely contenting himself with holding Dean’s hand and resting like this.

“Hey…” Dean clears his throat, “um, thanks, Cas.” Cas gave a small smile and lifted Dean’s hand to his lips, kissing it lightly.

“Yeah, okay, that was gay.”

“Forgive me, Dean,” Dean can here the smile in his voice.

“Whatever. We still have a problem though. “

“Oh?”

“I had to walk in on the two of them butt naked. That was something I didn’t need to see. Ever.”

“And what do you suggest to fix this ‘problem’?”

Dean smirks, flipping himself over so his knees are on either side of Cas’s thighs, “payback.”

Cas gives an adorable look of confusion and there’s just no way Dean can resist kissing the fuck out of those full lips. Cas still may not understand what he means by payback, but he sure as hell has learned kissing back since they’ve been together, and damn is he a fast learner. One of Cas’s hands goes to Dean’s neck, pulling him closer, and the other is already deftly unbuttoning Dean’s shirt, intent on caressing the slowly exposed skin underneath.

Dean, not one to be outdone by someone who’s just recently been introduced to sex after countless millennia, puts one arm around Cas’s waist and yanks him down the bed so Cas can lay flat, pulls the sheet off and shoves his own shirt away with reckless abandon. He breaks off the kiss and goes for Cas’s neck, darkening bruising kisses from the night before and feeling out the contours of Cas’s body with his free hand.

Cas’s breath hitches and his hands splay across Dean’s back, pulling him down closer, always closer, and Dean would feel like a freakin’ teenager for getting hard so fast, but Cas is too and when Dean’s jean clad erection rubs against Cas’s skin it feels good enough to erase any other thoughts from his mind.

This, of course, _would_ be the moment that the door opens (by some magical force, Dean’s the only one with a key) and Sam bounds in—before quickly making a 180 and heading right back for the door, loud complaints and a scandalized shriek following in his wake.

Both Cas and Dean had looked to the door when it opened and were still. After the door slammed shut, Cas made a small sound of understanding, making Dean look at him questioningly.

“Payback.”

Dean smirks, resuming his kisses, trailing them down Cas’s body, “it’s a bitch.”


End file.
